Mother's Day
by alicekinsno1
Summary: Hibana has always hated Mother's Day. Genkaku has never properly experienced it, but shows his appreciation in his own way-or so he says. On their first Mother's Day together, they compare notes.


_A/N: This is a story idea I've had for a while, and I decided that, since it's Mother's Day right now, it was as good a time as any to finally pen it. Enjoy!_

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One morning, when Hibana Daida woke up, she lazily turned to gaze at the calendar beside her bed. When she saw that it was the second Sunday in May, her eyes snapped open. _Mother's Day_. Oh, how she hated Mother's Day! Her mother, who was a terrifying woman at the best of times, would always get so much worse whenever this day came. She made Hibana give her flowers and buy her gifts, and do all the chores around the house. When she was three years old she had ignored her orders to make breakfast, and in return her mother had whipped her until she threw up and almost passed out. She always used to say, "I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it!"

Not waiting another instant, Hibana leapt out of bed, not even bothering to change into her clothes or wash up. What did she need to do first? Perhaps she could make breakfast. Only, there was no kitchen in Deadman Wonderland that she had access to, only the cafeteria. So, what else was there? Her next objective was always flowers. But no flowers grew in Deadman Wonderland, and so she decided to draw some instead. She began digging frantically through her drawers, desperate to find some paper and crayons. She then ran out to the lounge she shared with the other division leaders and began to draw, trying desperately to stop her hands from trembling.

Just then, she heard footsteps approaching. Her head shot up just in time for her to see Genkaku entering the lounge, a cigarette already in his teeth. He wore no shirt; just the pair of faded cut-off sweatpants he usually wore to bed and, mysteriously, his black wrist bands. "I thought I heard someone running around out here," he said, with an infuriatingly sardonic edge in his voice. "What the hell are you doing up so early? It's, like, five in the morning."

"I don't have time for your stupid jokes today," Hibana replied indignantly. "It's Mother's Day, and I have to be prepared!"

"Wow, is it really May already?" said Genkaku, scratching his head. "You lose track of time in a place like this, don't ya?"

Hibana didn't answer, instead scribbling away at her drawing. No matter what she tried, she couldn't seem to make the flowers look right.

Genkaku walked over to the sofa and sat down, smiling indulgently at her. "What're you drawing?"

"A gift for my mother," Hibana said in clipped tones. She drew and drew, feeling pressure building in her chest, until she couldn't take it anymore. "I have to make her a gift!" she shouted, gazing wildly at Genkaku. "If I don't she'll kill me!"

The look on Genkaku's face changed to one of concern. "Calm down!" he said.

"No! I will not calm down!" Hibana blurted out, now close to tears. "I have to do this for her! I have to-!"

Hibana was so busy shouting she hadn't even noticed Genkaku get up from the sofa. The next thing she knew, he'd snuck up behind her, enveloped her in his warm arms and sat her down on his lap. "Calm down," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Remember, your mother's dead. She can't hurt you now. You hanged her yourself," he added, enunciating every syllable.

Hibana felt herself stop shaking. Her muscles began to relax. She dropped the red crayon and sank into his embrace. "R-right," she said at last. "She is dead. I forgot."

"Right," said Genkaku. "So don't worry about it."

For a long time the two of them just sat together. It seemed strange to Hibana that she felt more secure in the arms of the chief Undertaker in Deadman Wonderland than she ever did in her own mother's arms. As her senses came back to her, she realized that he smelled awful. So, she stood up and went over to the sofa, where she flopped down. He copied her. "So how did you celebrate Mother's Day, anyway?" she asked Genkaku.

He screwed up his face in thought. At last, he said: "I'm pretty sure I didn't celebrate it at all for the first five years of my life. There would've been no point, not in a place where everyone either has no mother or hates their mother's guts. When I moved in with Auntie, I'd sometimes help Mariko and Takeshi pick out flowers and gifts for her. But I never gave anything to my own mother because I don't even know where her grave is, or if she even has one for that matter."

Hearing him speak, Hibana couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Had her mother really been so bad? Sure, she could be scary—but at least she had had one!

Genkaku chewed on his cigarette and blew out some smoke. "Anyway," he went on, "I eventually realized that I don't really need flowers or gifts to show my appreciation for my mother. No, I paid my dues up front."

Hibana looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

Genkaku smiled, but there was a strange faraway look in his eyes. "I rescued her from the miserable life she was living." He sighed, and took another drag on his cigarette. "I dunno much about her life, but from what I do know it was very, very bad. And on top of that she would've had to deal with the drudgery and shame of being a single parent. My father wasn't there when I was born, y'see, and I've never met the man. I don't even know if he's alive or dead." He folded his arm behind his head as he continued to smoke. "And now, her troubles are over forever. She feels no pain or fear, and has no regrets. I guess you could say she's one of the grateful dead." The look on his face was dreamy now. "And it's all thanks to me."

"That sounds kinda…sad," Hibana couldn't help but interject.

Genkaku stared at her with an irritated expression. He snorted and ground his cigarette into the ashtray. "Sad, huh? You don't know how bad I wish the same thing had happened to you."

Now Hibana was really confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" said Genkaku. "I wish your mother had died at your birth, not stuck around for five more years to cause you trouble."

Hibana couldn't help but gasp. "You shouldn't say such horrible things!"

"Why the fuck not?" said Genkaku. "It's true. If she'd died then and there it would've been so much better for everyone involved. She'd be free from whatever ailed her"—he pointed his finger at her—"and you'd be off living a happy life as a normal girl. Going to school. Making real friends."

"No! That's not right!" Hibana protested. "If that'd happened I probably would've been sent to an orphanage!"

"Yeah, so?" said Genkaku with a shrug. "There's no shame in that. I spent the first five years of my life in an orphanage. It really wasn't so bad. Not at all like in those storybooks."

"It wasn't?" said Hibana in genuine amazement. "But my mother said—"

"Here's an idea," said Genkaku, twisting to face her head-on. "Why don't you stop listening to that damn woman, eh? Just a thought."

Hibana racked her brains to think of a retort, but none seemed available. Instead, she just sat in silence.

It was Genkaku who eventually broke the silence. "Holy fuck, would you look at the time!" he said, leaping up. "It's twenty to six! I'd better get showered and dressed before breakfast!" With that, he stalked off, leaving Hibana alone. Heaving a deep sigh, Hibana collected all her things as best she could, and then trotted back to her bedroom to get dressed.


End file.
